


Not Broken, Just Bent

by amtrak12



Series: Yatesbert Week 2017 [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Movie, Trapped In Elevator, Tropes, Yatesbert Week, estrangement AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amtrak12/pseuds/amtrak12
Summary: In Boston for a convention, Abby becomes stuck in an elevator with someone she hadn't seen in years.





	Not Broken, Just Bent

**Author's Note:**

> For Yatesbert Week Day 3 -- prompt: stuck in the elevator. And yes, the title does come from Pink's "Just Give Me a Reason" :)

It was past six in the evening but the lobby still smelled of stale coffee from that morning's continental breakfast. The proffered bagels had been stale as well, but the thought of any food made Abby's stomach yearn. There had been no place to grab lunch at the conference.

Abby jabbed at the elevator button against the sage green wallpaper. She'd always thought green was a happy color but this decor looked like it'd been chewed up and spat out by a nasty divorce. The kind that came with screaming matches and ended with the wife winning the house but not the money to pay for it and bills quickly devour her.

Maybe that was what was taking the elevator so long, it had been holding off poverty for a dozen years and couldn't muster up the energy anymore. The button to head up hadn't even lit up, so Abby hit it again. Still no light came on, but at least she could hear the pulleys whirling in the elevator shaft.

She sighed and stood back on her heels to wait. It had taken her a solid five minutes to reach the lobby that morning, and her room was only on the fifth floor. How this hotel had been named the official hotel of the 2009 Boston Physics Convention was beyond her, though it did explain how Higgins had been able to cover the cost of her trip. Normally, she had to pay for out of town conventions herself.

The elevator continued dragging its feet while offering no confirmation it was even heading to the ground floor. For all Abby knew, it could be heading up to retrieve someone else. She weighed the effort exerted versus time saved for five flights of stairs and was on the verge of declaring the stairs the better option when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

_Finally._ Abby stepped into the dingy box and hit floor five.

"Oh, hold the elevator, please!" a voice drifted across the lobby.

Abby flung her arm in front of the doors automatically to prevent them from closing. A second later, a woman cruised into the elevator and released a breath.

"Thank you. I thought I might have to wait again."

The woman settled against the opposite wall, and Abby gaped as she got a good look at her.

"Erin?"

Erin's head shot up, and her eyes widened. "Oh."

Abby's heart pounded. She hadn't seen or spoken to Erin in twelve years, not since Erin had abandoned their book and everything they'd worked for. Abby had tried for months to get back in touch with her, but Erin had never returned her calls. The only reason she knew Erin had successfully graduated from MIT with her PhD and now worked at Columbia University was because of her byline on her most recent publication. She hadn't dared hope Erin would be at this convention.

\-- Okay, that was a lie. She had hoped. Boston wasn't too far from New York, and it was the site of Erin's alma mater. Whether connections or convenience, Abby had hoped something would have brought Erin to this convention, but after two days of lectures and mingling, Abby had neither seen nor heard any sign of Erin's attendance.

Yet, here she stood in the harsh white light of a crappy elevator in an even crappier hotel. She held a leather briefcase in hand and wore a dress suit so much like the ones she'd used to wear to job fairs that Abby's chest clenched. Clearly, Erin had been attending the convention, and Abby had just kept missing her.

Erin didn't seem to have been aware Abby was attending this convention either. She stared in shock from across the elevator. Then, her eyes flickered to the still open doors like she might bolt.

"I think we can ride an elevator together," Abby snapped as stabbed the 'close doors' button. She prayed the doors would move faster than the rest of the elevator, but they inched their way over the tracks in slow, creaky shudders. _Don't run, don't run._

"Yes. Of course." A mask slid over Erin's face as she straightened her shoulders. "It's just an elevator ride. Not a big deal."

Abby swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. She didn't want to stare at Erin, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. God, Erin looked just the same. Her hair was still auburn and still pulled half back. Her hands still clenched and fidgeted like they always did when she was anxious. She was still insisting on wearing heels with her suit even though Abby had always told her she didn't have to kill her feet to be an adult. Literally, the only difference Abby could find was Erin's hair had grown a few inches since she'd last seen her.

Of course, Erin could have grown her hair to her waist and chopped it off half a dozen times since they'd last seen each other. Abby had no way of knowing Erin hadn't done exactly that, and the realization made her ache. It struck her this was her one chance to truly talk to Erin and try to convince her to return home. If she couldn't succeed, she doubted Erin would grant her another opening.

"What floor are you on?"

"Um, eight, please."

She felt disconnected from her body as she raised her hand to push Erin's floor. For a moment, she regretted selecting her own floor already. She could have pretended to have been on eight as well and ride the full way with Erin.

Five minutes. Thanks to how slow this elevator was, Abby would at least get five minutes to convince her. She just had to use the time efficiently.

The pressure made her waste precious seconds searching for the right words.

"So, when did you arrive?" she finally asked.

Erin's eyes stayed on the panel of lights above the door tracking which floor they were on. "Last night."

Abby nodded. "I didn't see you at any of the panels today."

"I thought I saw someone who looked like you walking into the presentation on spin networks," Erin said.

Abby remembered that presentation in the main auditorium. "It probably was me."

"Yeah, it probably was."

The lighted panel ticked past floor two.

Abby took a breath. "Look, Erin--"

"We don't have to talk if you don't want to," Erin cut her off.

But Abby did want to talk. She very much wanted to talk: about the past, about the television interview, their book, her current progress on her research, how much her heart still ached from Erin's absence and deafening silence. She was just opening her mouth to say this to Erin when the elevator suddenly tossed them off balance. Abby stumbled for the railing, but in the limited space, hit Erin's arm instead. The contact made her gut swoop worse than any elevator had ever managed, but then Erin jerked back to her own half of the space.

Abby righted herself and realized the elevator had fallen silent. It had stopped moving. Alarm snapped her eyes up to the panel above the door, but the lights only showed they were on the third floor. Well, actually it showed they were on both the third and fourth floors simultaneously. Great, the lights were busted and someone else was trying to get on the elevator. A third party wouldn't help her talk to Erin.

Seconds passed, but the door never opened. The elevator stayed still.

Erin's eyes flickered between the panel and the doors. "Are we stuck?"

"No, it's just the door. It works even slower than the elevator." Abby hit the 'open doors' button to help it along, but nothing budged.

She huffed and knocked against the door. "Hey, if you're trying to get on," she said, raised her voice to be heard, "I'd go take the stairs. The doors don't want to open."

She glanced back at Erin who seemed to be growing worried. No response came from outside the door.

"No." Erin shook her head. "No, we are not stuck."

She brushed past Abby to get the elevator panel, and Abby frowned.

"I didn't say we were stuck."

Erin pressed the doors open and the the doors close buttons to no avail. "No, this isn't happening."

"You didn't suddenly become claustrophobic, did you?" Abby asked. She was starting to feel the tendrils of anxiety slip into her veins in the face of Erin's concern. The elevator continued to not move.

Erin jabbed at their still-lit floor buttons, and then hit the button for the top floor, apparently as a test. The backlight came on behind the number ten, but nothing else happened.

"At least we know elevators can't really plummet to the basement like in the movies," Abby joked. Erin shot her an alarmed look, so Abby rushed on. "Really, it's fine. There's a ton of brakes built into these things."

Erin turned her attention back to the button panel. "There's got to be an emergency phone or something here." She seemed to be looking for some extra panel to open or a hidden intercom, but there was only the bright red 'emergency' button on the main dash. Erin pressed it and looked around. Abby glanced too. If the emergency button had done anything, they couldn't hear it.

"Perfect." Erin fished her phone out of her briefcase and flipped it open. She frowned at the screen. "Do you have signal?"

Abby checked her own phone. "Yeah, a little. Is there a number to call over there?"

Erin gave her a look. "Just call 9-1-1."

"For a shit elevator breaking down? I was thinking more the hotel lobby."

"9-1-1 will get you the fire department."

"Fine." Abby started dialing.

"Here, I'll do it." Erin reached over for the phone.

"No, I've got it." Abby said, batting her hand away. "Get a better phone next time."

"My phone is fine, thank you very much," Erin argued, but the emergency operator came on the line and Abby shushed her.

She explained the situation to the operator and gave the name and general location of the hotel as she didn't have the address on hand. The operator passed the information along and told her a crew would arrive in ten minutes.

"Ten minutes," she repeated to Erin as she hung up. Erin sighed and leaned back against the elevator wall.

Abby had paced while she'd spoken with emergency services, and now she and Erin were on opposite sides of the elevator from where they'd began. Though, truthfully, the elevator wasn't that big. They still stood nearly on top of one another. Abby could cross to Erin's side in one step if she really tried.

She spun her phone between her fingers and looked at Erin. Her five minutes had just gained another ten. Here was her chance.

"So, I know--"

"We still don't' need to talk," Erin interrupted again.

Abby clenched her jaw. "Actually, we do. If you think you can just disappear for twelve years without an explanation--"

"I gave you an explanation," Erin said.

"No." Abby shook her head. "You took off and left some vague message on my machine when you knew full well I wouldn't be home yet, and then you never called me back. You just disappeared."

"I thought I made myself completely clear in that message."

"Don't publish the book. You'll ruin our lives," Abby quoted. "That's not an explanation. That's just a request."

"Actually, the 'ruin our lives' part acts as the explanation," Erin said.

Abby felt fury so strong she wanted to hit something. "You _left_. Care to explain that bit? Cause you were gone. You didn't show up to our interview. You didn't call me back. You moved -- god. You transferred schools and you didn't even tell me."

"There were some conflicts with my adviser," Erin explained to the floor.

"Yeah, probably because that guy's a prick," Abby said, remembering stories from Erin had still been speaking to her. "What I don't get is why you didn't tell me."

"Because I knew you wouldn't listen," Erin finally said directly to her.

Abby gaped. "You're saying _I_ wouldn't listen? So what it's suddenly all my fault now that you took off without warning?"

"I told you I didn't want to publish our book," Erin said, dropping her briefcase to the floor. "I told you I didn't want to put our work out there."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did! Over and over again, in fact."

Abby shook her head. "No. You told me once on the answering machine after you stood me up for that interview. You never told me that before."

"Yes, I-- Oh my-- You weren't listening," Erin said, clearly frustrated. Well, good. Abby was frustrated as all get out right then, too. Let Erin feel cuts in her heart as painful as Abby's.

Erin continued, "I gave you reason after reason why we shouldn't publish, and you never wanted to hear it. You just waved it all away and ran full steam ahead with the book. You never stopped to listen to what I was saying."

"Well, maybe I didn't want to hear that you were leaving!"

The words flew out before Abby could think. In the disassociated silence that followed, she felt the tidal wave bearing down on her that she had spent the last few moments ignoring. The frustration grew into fear grew into tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and it all pissed her off more. This wasn't the conversation she wanted to have with Erin. She'd had a plan! Many plans, all formed in the long hours she'd spent alone. Plans which included logic and reason and data for why Erin had been wrong to leave and why she should come back. In some, she'd even had the proof they'd both desperately searched for that the barrier was real and ghosts existed. Of course, she hadn't found that proof yet, but that should have only been insurance. She shouldn't have truly needed. She still had a whole manuscript she could print and bind and then slam over Erin's head if she had to.

None of her plans had ever included discussing the year leading up to Erin's departure. That year didn't matter -- it wouldn't matter if Erin would just come back.

Erin was staring at her in a way Abby couldn't handle. She spun around to get away, but there was nowhere to go. She was in a 4 foot by 4 foot hell box with no way out.

"I meant before the television interview," Erin said. "You didn't listen bef--"

"Yeah, I know what you meant." Talking made her jaw quake, and Abby took a deep breath to re-shut the floodgates. She wouldn't cry in front of Erin in this godforsaken elevator. Not today. Definitely not today.

"Abby?"

Erin's voice was soft and uncertain now. The accusations seemed to have bled out of her, and Abby feared she could see how upset she was. She took another slow breath and tried to school her expression before turning around to face Erin.

Erin was still watching her carefully. "You didn't want to hear I was leaving," she repeated. "What does that... I don't understand what that means."

"Nothing. You were right, we don't need to talk." Abby leaned back against the railing and stared up at the lights above the door. They hadn't moved of course, but maybe if she stared at them long enough psychokinesis would suddenly jumpstart the elevator.

"But what did you mean?"

"It's nothing. It wasn't important."

"Abby."

Abby tried to keep her focus on the line of numbers, at the yellowed glow behind the three and four. The contrasting bright-white ceiling lights captured her attention instead and drew her eyes up further. She allowed herself to be blinded for a moment, yet in her peripheral vision, she could still see Erin staring at her. She closed her eyes and watched the flashbulb spots behind her lids instead.

"Fine."

She heard Erin settle back against her claimed wall. Not seeing Erin didn't ease the ache in her chest. In fact, she only felt Erin's presence more acutely. It was like Erin's imprint had been imparted on the very air around them, an imprint that felt all too familiar to Abby. Her eyes blinked open.

"You wouldn't return my calls," Abby finally said. The words tumbled out of her slowly, carefully. She lowered eyes from the blinding brightness to stare at the sharp corner where the walls met the ceiling. "And if you did, it was sporadic and you were always distracted. You didn't want to talk about our research. For the entire year before the interview, you were pulling away, and I... I didn't want it to be true."

"Oh," Erin said quietly. "I was busy... with classes."

"You didn't want to keep working with the paranormal," Abby countered.

She dropped her gaze and locked eyes with Erin. Erin stared back, not offering up any denials.

"But I thought if we could get the book published," Abby continued, "get it out there in front of people, you'd be reinspired and everything would go back to normal."

"Nobody would have believed us," Erin said.

"But we would have gotten feedback," Abby insisted. "We could have strengthened our theories by responding to the criticism."

"But nobody would have believed us," Erin repeated, voice gaining strength. Panic had risen in her eyes, and Abby's heart fell.

"Yeah, I know," she admitted. She dug her nails into her palms to keep emotions back. "I just hated the idea that you had changed."

Erin stared a moment longer, anxiety still etched onto her face, and then she blinked and her expression shifted. "No, it was grad school that changed."

Abby frowned, and Erin pushed on.

"Grad school changed everything. We were in this... this bubble in college. It was just us and our work and no one could get through, and it was--"

Erin glanced up at the ceiling like she was remembering, and, for a moment, Abby swore she saw a smile cross her face.

"It was incredible," Erin said. "But then, we moved on to grad school, and suddenly it was all about careers and conferences and lab time. Every other student was so focused and professional. They didn't waste time on fringe science that no academic takes seriously -- my roommate didn't even watch TV unless it was the news -- and I was suddenly all on my own again. You were still in Michigan, and I didn't have that bubble anymore."

Erin paused before her next words. "I wasn't trying to pull away from you. I just couldn't... I couldn't be Ghost Girl and Dr. Erin Gilbert. There wasn't any way."

Silence reigned in the minute that followed Erin's speech. Abby let the words sink their way into her skin before attempting to sort through what they meant. A dozen different emotions churned through her -- heartbreak, loss, desperation, confusion, fear -- but only one rose above the rest. It started at her tips, spreading up through her limbs until it blossomed in her chest. Hope. Something in Erin's words left her with the sense that everything between them wasn't over just yet.

Abby unstuck her tongue. "What if you were just Erin for a bit? Could you do that?"

Erin bit her lip. "I don't know who that is," she confessed.

_Someone wonderful and passionate and brilliant. Someone adventurous and funny. Someone I love._

Abby was just about to tell her some of this when a crackling voice cut through the air. Both Abby and Erin jumped and turned their heads to the small speaker on the elevator panel.

"Hey, this is the emergency crew. Just letting you know that we should have that elevator working in another five minutes. Hang tight."

_Of all the fucking times--_ Abby huffed. "Yeah, now you show up. We were talking here, you know. Way to pick the worst possible time to finally do your job."

She stopped her rant when she realized the workers couldn't hear her. The elevator only allowed communication one way.

Erin, on the other hand, had certainly been able to hear her. She was now doubled over laughing in this high-pitched, strained kind of way that sounded closer to a breakdown than real amusement.

"Why are you laughing?" Abby asked.

"You did that when we first met," Erin said as she wiped at her eye.

"What?"

"The bell rang at the end of lunch, and you got mad," Erin explained. She chuckled again. "You yelled up at the ceiling at it because it interrupted us."

It sounded like something she might have done, but Abby had no specific memory of yelling at the lunch bell. Mostly from that first day, she remembered approaching the table where Erin had at alone and being blown away by how much Erin already knew about spectral entities and the spirit world.

"Yeah, well... I don't like being interrupted."

"I know." Erin laughed.

The smile on her face looked real enough, in fact, it looked completely genuine. The brightness of it shot right to the hope in Abby's chest, inflating it further. Abby wanted to hang onto this moment forever and use it as proof that everything would be okay.

"Were you doing anything tonight?" Abby asked. "Did you have to prepare anything for tomorrow or were you going to go out?"

Erin shook her head. "I was probably just going to catch up on some emails."

"Do you want to keep hanging out?" she asked, purposefully choosing words that wouldn't sound confrontational.

There was something reflecting in Erin's eyes as she nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Hope, Abby realized. Erin's eyes were shining with hope.

A slow smile broke out on Abby's face. "Good. Me too."

A second later, the elevator lurched and knocked them both off balance. They cheered when they realized the elevator was finally climbing up to the fifth floor.

"They did it! We're on our way," Erin said with a grin.

Abby smiled back. "Yeah, I think we are."


End file.
